This is the beginning of my second novel. I was brought upon this by my old English professor in college. Since then, he's inspired me to continue writing and has continued his support for me. My style of writing is not the best, but i do have a hell of an imagination. I write from the heart and then correct everything later.
As the sun peeked over the western mountains, John Carlisle began his mountain biking expedition. His goal for the day was Spears Pointe, some twenty-eight miles outside of Anchorage, Alaska and at an elevation of 7,656 feet. John, an ex-Navy Seal, had lived in Anchorage for twenty-six years, upon his retirement, had moved there and begun his new life. He was 46 years old and a tall, scruffy looking man. Brown hair ran to his shoulders and a bushy, brown beard covered his face, with brown eyes peeking through the tangles. The years had been harsh to John, yet he maintained his body in perfect physical condition. Not a day had gone by, that John hadn’t remembered the day his career as a Navy Seal ended………….
It was 2001 and he had received orders to depart with his seven-man team to North Korea on a tactical reconnaissance mission. Reports were indicating an active nuclear and uranium enrichment program within their border. So, when he gathered his team, they were flown into Seoul, South Korea. From there, they proceeded into North Korea and set camp twenty-five miles east of Pyongyang. The day was ending and it was towards the end of dusk, with the sky darkening. Lieutenant Major Carlisle instructed two of his men to stay at the camp and monitor the incoming feed and radio traffic. John and the other four men left and stealthily snuck to the tree line to survey the facility. Ahead of them was quite a sight: bright spotlights everywhere; Jeeps and trucks always in motion. Men were scurrying all around and shouting orders were Korean soldiers holding AK-47s to the workers. John instructed his team to start spreading out and record the action. As they watched, they saw a worker, carrying a bundle of something, trip. As he lay on the ground, a Korean officer ran up to him holding a pistol to the worker and yelling at him. The worker then got to his knees and was bowing apologetically when the officer pulled the trigger, blowing the workers head to pieces. The officer turned and walked away. John had been appalled at how easily the officer did that and became disgusted with him. John’s team spent over two hours in the trees, recording the action and sending it back to camp. After those two hours, John rounded up his team and they were preparing to leave when one of his men tripped and fell, triggering a bright flash of light and loud explosions; he had tripped a claymore mine! The force of the explosion ripped the young man’s body to pieces and sent shrapnel into two other men who died on impact. With the confusion of explosions, the Korean Army was alerted of their presence and opened fire on the tree line. The bullets ripped through his remaining team members and killed them. Three bullets struck John in the back, knocking him to the ground and screaming in agony, he managed to crawl back to the camp and the remaining two soldiers rushed to assist him………………
Back in the present, John shook his head to clear his mind of the memory. He realized he was leaning against a tree with his bike lying on the ground next to him. He stood up and got back on his mountain bike. Trying to put the memory behind him, he continued his ride until he made it to the foot of Katchacka Mountain, where he paused and took a break. He looked up the side of the mountain, where the trail zigzagged its way up and around the mountain. Beyond the peak was Spears Pointe, his destination. The route he was going to take was twenty-seven miles and climbed to an elevation of 7,000 feet. This didn’t worry Carlisle; in fact, nothing really scared or worried him anymore. He kept his mind set on his goal and blocked out all other thoughts. He made a check of his gear. Among his gear, John had a breathing apparatus and two spare O2 tanks along with rock climbing gear, six MRE’s, and miscellaneous items to repair his bicycle. When the check was done, he set off on the journey again, beginning his ascent to the peak of Mount Katchacka.
*** *** ***
30,000 feet above Alaska, a converted Boeing 737-26A soared. The plane was a United States military aircraft and was used for surveillance and monitoring. Inside the cabin three men sat, deep in conversation.
“Sir, John Carlisle has just entered the mountain.” A voice sounded over the loud speaker.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” stated Admiral Pete Jacobs.
Jacobs was sitting at an oak desk with his arms folded across his chest and a slightly distressed look on his face. Jacobs was a long-time friend of John’s and had served with him on the North Korea campaign. He was a short man yet stout and muscular. In his mid-fifties with a bald head, he appeared young besides his age. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk and steeped his fingers, gazing at the other two men. On his left sat a civilian Research Analyst who worked with the United Nations and NASA; on his right sat a Marine Sergeant.
“Okay, gentleman, we need a game plan. ETA over the mountain is six minutes. Sergeant, what’s the plan?” the Admiral asked turning his focus to the Sergeant.
“Admiral, I have eight men preparing to jettison, in the cargo hold. As I understand, you wish Carlisle unharmed, correct?” he asked the Admiral with a slight smirk.
Admiral Jacobs gazed back at him with a glare. “Sergeant, your mission is to only capture Carlisle under strict silence and secrecy and transport him to the Safe Zone. DO NOT deviate from you order.”
“Yes, Sir!” the Sergeant said as he stood up with a sharp salute, and walked out of the room.
The Admiral watched his exit, then turning his focus to the scientist, he asked, “Well, Tom, what do you think?”
“Honestly, Admiral, I think Pulaski is trouble!” the scientist said exasperatedly. His name was Thomas Ward. He was an older gentleman with a slightly balding head and completely white hair.
“Tom, we’ve been over this before; Pulaski is a good soldier. Don’t let personality conflicts come between you and your work.” Jacobs smiled as he said this. He, also, had his own reservations about Pulaski.
“Okay, Admiral. Now, if the team lands where planned, then it should take no longer than six hours to retrieve Carlisle to the Safe Zone.” Ward leaned forward in his chair, suddenly intent on the subject.
“Yes, and I will be there to brief him. I just hate to bring him in so suddenly and without any notice. But, under the circumstances, he is the only man for the job.” Jacobs said, with a pained look. “Now, Tom, I need you to prepare the briefing plans and give him all the information on what happened and what we need him for.”
“Yes, Sir” Tom said as he got up and immersed himself in a computer consul at the back of the room.
Admiral Jacobs stood up and walked over to a telephone built into the wall. He picked it up and punched in two numbers. On the other end of the phone, he heard, “Admiral, we are over the mountain now.”
Hanging up the phone, he picked up the loud speaker consul and said, “Sergeant Pulaski, you have a green light to launch.”
“Aye aye Admiral,” was the response from the other end.
As red warning lights flashed throughout the plane and nine, black-clad figures jettisoned from the plane, Admiral Jacobs thought: God speed John Carlisle. I hope he doesn’t hurt them too bad.
*** *** ***
Ten miles from where he started, john Carlisle stopped and rested. He had found a trail leading off the main one and followed it to where it opened into a clearing on top of a cliff top. He was sitting on top of the cliff gazing at the scenery and eating an MRE.
For once, he was at peace with himself. It had taken almost twenty years to do so, but he finally forgave himself.
As John sat on the cliff looking out over the vast forest, he heard a distant sound of an aircraft. He stood up and looked towards the sky, trying to see what he could hear. With no luck at seeing it, he was about to turn around and continue his journey when he noticed something off to the east. He focused closer and realized he was seeing nine black dots floating down miles away towards the peak. As he watched, he saw as, one-by-one, parachutes deployed and he realized that they were military paratroopers and not civilians.
He stood there wondering what the military would be doing in these mountains, then pushed it out of his mind. His military years were long over, he shouldn’t worry about them. Walking back to his bike, he began his journey again. Riding at an even pace, he carefully kept his mind blank and focused on his riding.
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